The Letter of Aristeas, a fascinating ancient text, gives us some clues. It recounts the story of how the Hebrew Bible was translated into Greek – the Septuagint – but tucked away in the narrative are these little gems of wisdom. Imagine a king, surrounded by advisors, seeking guidance on how to rule wisely.
He asks one sage, “How can I be free from error?”
The reply is striking in its simplicity and enduring relevance. The advisor says, in essence: Think before you act. Don't believe everything you hear. Investigate for yourself. Judge fairly. And most importantly, trust your own judgment. "If you always act with deliberation and never give credence to slanders, but prove for yourself the things that are said to you and decide by your own judgement the requests which are made to you and carry out everything in the light of your judgement, you will be free from error, O King."
Pretty good advice. But then comes the kicker: "But the knowledge and practice of these things is the work of the Divine power." It's not enough to just know what's right, it requires a connection to something greater than ourselves to actually do it. It's as if true wisdom is a gift, earned through striving but ultimately granted by a higher source.
The king, pleased with this answer, moves on to another crucial question for a ruler: How can I control my anger? "How he could be free from wrath?"
This advisor's response is equally insightful. He suggests that the king recognize his own power, even the power of life and death. "If he recognized that he had power over all even to inflict death upon them, if he gave way to wrath, and that it would be useless and pitiful if he, just because he was lord, deprived many of life."
But here's the twist: recognizing that power should actually prevent him from succumbing to wrath. The advisor points out the futility and tragedy of a ruler abusing his authority simply because he can. True strength, it seems, lies not in wielding power indiscriminately, but in restraining oneself, in choosing mercy and justice over impulsive anger.
Both of these pieces of advice, drawn from this ancient letter, speak to the core challenges of leadership – and, frankly, of being human. They remind us that wisdom isn't just about intelligence; it's about deliberation, discernment, and a connection to something beyond ourselves. And that true power isn't about control, but about restraint and compassion.